


ars moriendi

by tawnyPort



Series: HSWC 2013 [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Homestuck Shipping World Cup, hswc: bonus round 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:37:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tawnyPort/pseuds/tawnyPort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm going home." The panic vanishes with that word because there was only one time you really ever felt at home. Once you grew up it was all starships and conquests and nowhere to put down roots again. Luckily, from your youth you were accustomed to giving your love to things that would not last, so you learned to love each new planet and each new starship and each new cohort as a kind of home, but they weren't really.</p><p>Home was Alternia's ocean and any patch of shore where a maroonblooded girl ran on the beach, racing you to a sandbar and the winner got a kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ars moriendi

**Author's Note:**

> From [HSWC Bonus Round 1](http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/3493.html?thread=682917#cmt682917): _How passionately we love everything that cannot last: the dazzling crystallory of winter, the spring in bloom, the fragile flight of butterflies, crimson sunsets, a kiss, and life._ \- 'Brother Odd' by Dean Koontz.

You are Feferi Peixes and you're dying.

You know because you're seeing her again.

You never told anyone when you started hearing her laughter in the quiet moments as the sun came up and you retired to your recuperacoon. They'd think you were mad and the plan for a natural end of life succession might all go horns over heels.

You didn't tell anyone when you started dreaming about her either, mostly because it wasn't that new and because it was nobody's business but yours. And hers, you supposed, especially when the dreams became more... interactive. You weren't dreaming memories or might have beens anymore.

You dreamed about a road, vast and winding, dark behind you but ahead lined with torches. She skipped ahead of you, mostly cloaked in darkness but fingertips aflame, lighting more torches as she went and looking over her shoulder every once in a while to make sure you were following. Her face was like the Luna you'd become so familiar with on Earth, their fair white moon contrasting against the dark sky, her cheery face waxing and waning through her mane of wild hair.

Of course you were following. She was the only person other than yourself you were ever willing to follow unquestioningly. The metaphor was not lost on you as day after day you walked further.

You'd forgotten how much you loved her hair.

You make sure all your arrangements are in order. You allow your government to plan a week of mourning, lavish events to mark your passing, but in you there is a growing keenness, a need.

You're starting to run along the road. She's faster than you--she always was, on land--but the chase is merry. You cannot run like this in reality any more. No tyrian has ever aged as you have. No one knew what would happen to you.

Humans have a myth about a poor creature named Tithonus. His beloved wishes for him to have eternal life but doesn't ask for eternal youth. The goddess watches him wither and abandons him. You make sure your descendent, when she is hatched, takes the name Aurora in honor of this myth so she will know what awaits her should she survive.

You are decrepit. You are a crone, so ancient the stars your ships have travelled to have changed positions in the sky from the time you were hatched until now. Your body is failing, weak, brittle, your skin translucent. It gives your cheeks a flush like that of youth but the tissue over them is just that. Tissue.

In your dreams you are young again, and you long for rest and her arms.

One day you lay down and you dream. She's before you, a torch in one hand, facing you in a crossroads. The firelight on her face makes her glow. She's beaming and flushed, so alive. She's a rose again like she was in life, vivid and red and passionate.

"You look tired, cuttlebug." The ancient pet name melts something in you. This is the first time she's spoken. How you longed to hear her voice.

"I've been running for a long time, Ray."

"You deserve a break!" She nods and beckons you forward. "It's time, and trust me, I know."

"I miss you so much," you say, rushing forward and bypassing the offered hand in favor of hugging her. You bury your face in her neck, taking in the smells of her. Millenia couldn't dim that memory of ash and spice, the warmth of her body. In the span of your life she was the snapping of fingers but you never took another matesprit.

"Why? I'm right here. Silly." You feel her taking a few steps backward and you let her pull you along. "You know, nobody else was like this."

"Like what?" You finally caught her and you're not letting go for anything, not until you wake up and are parted again.

"Making me walk backwards to show them the way. You always have to be the boss, even now." Her voice is chiding but warm, teasing. What she says makes you finally look up.

You've crossed the road.

You pull away to look behind you but the torches have all gone out. It's like the road behind you doesn't even exist anymore and you feel a momentary panic. Everything's gone.

"Everyfin's gone."

"It was never there to begin with!" Aradia's walking ahead of you now, slowly, swinging her hips and waving her torch. "This is why I had to come for you. I knew you'd have trouble."

"Trouble with what?" You trot after her, catching her free hand when you reach her side.

"Letting go. Usually Sollux comes for people but he's so cranky about it. I didn't want that for you! You've been alone the longest. You think everything is gone, but everything is here. Everything is right now." She stops and turns, warm lips pressing against your forehead, her hair blocking your vision. "You deserve to be welcomed home."

"I'm going home." The panic vanishes with that word because there was only one time you really ever felt at home. Once you grew up it was all starships and conquests and nowhere to put down roots again. Luckily, from your youth you were accustomed to giving your love to things that would not last, so you learned to love each new planet and each new starship and each new cohort as a kind of home, but they weren't really.

Home was Alternia's ocean and any patch of shore where a maroonblooded girl ran on the beach, racing you to a sandbar and the winner got a kiss.

You're pulled from your reverie by the feeling of water on your feet. When Aradia pulls away you look up to see two moons and the stars of your youth. There are a handful of silhouettes clustered around a bonfire on a shoal in the distance.

Aradia squeezes your hand then lets it go and shoves your shoulder, sending you stumbling deeper into the water as she retreats toward the shore.

"See you at the other end!"


End file.
